Deceptions and Seductions
by gaymeninthetrenches
Summary: Story begins after the cookie for City of Glass where Jace dares Alec to kiss him. What will happen to their relationships, both with each other, and with those they care about, if Alec does? Multi-Chaptered Story. Jace/Alec, Jace/Clary, Alec/Magnus
1. An Unexpected Diversion

_Author's Note: This is my first go at this type of story. I wasn't entirely sure I could pull it off, but I'm pleased with the way it is turning out. This story begins in Alicante, after the cookie where Jace all but dares Alec to kiss him. I've included the last paragraph of Cassandra's writing as a transition into my own text. All Mortal Instruments characters are owned and copyrighted by Cassandra Clare. No copyright infringement is intended. This will be a story told in multiple chapters, so make sure to add it to your updates list if you enjoy it._

"**Most virtue is a demand for greater seduction." ~ Natalie Clifford Barney**

**Chapter One**

**An Unexpected Diversion**

"I'm not stupid," Jace said. "I know how you think you feel about me. You don't, though. You just like me because I'm safe. There's no risk. And then you never have to try to have a real relationship, because you can use me as an excuse." Jace knew he was being cruel, and barely cared. Hurting people he loved was almost as good as hurting himself  
when he was in this kind of mood.

"But I do —"

"You don't," Jace said. "Fine. Go ahead. Kiss me right now."

Alec jerked away from Jace as if he'd been punched, stumbling backwards in his attempt to put distance between them. "This isn't a _game_, Jace! You can't keep playing everyone around you like stringed instruments." His breath was coming quickly, but his words were low and hard. "What you just did to Clary, okay, I get it. You thought you were acting to protect her. But what the hell is _this_? Stop taking your frustrations out on me, because honestly, I have more than enough of my own!"

Jace cocked his head to the side and blew his bangs out of his eyes. "I'm not taking anything out on you," he lied. "I'm only doing this for your benefit, the same way you wanting me to stay mutilated from the picture window is supposedly for mine." He lifted his bloody, bandaged hand and waved it around for emphasis. "But, you just proved my point, Alec. You're hiding behind your alleged feelings for me. If you really felt what you claim to, you would have kissed me just now. You wouldn't have been able to _not_ kiss me."

Alec shuffled backwards until his legs banged against an old wooden chair, knocking it off balance. As the chair crashed to the ground the echo of wood on marble filled the room, slowly fading away to leave only the silent sounds of anger behind. The boys stood motionless glaring at one another. Jace allowed the silence to stretch on for a moment to see if someone was going to come and see what all the noise was about, but no one did.

"Have a nice trip?" Jace asked nonchalantly.

Alec left the chair on the floor, and took a step back towards Jace. "You know what?" he asked, gesturing widely with his arms. "You are the last person in the world that I need to be taking romantic advice from. What makes you the expert? The countless interludes with girls that you cared absolutely nothing about? That's not what I'd want to emulate, Jace." Alec took another long sure stride back into the center of the room. "And look at you now. Look at you after you finally feel for someone what you are trying to tell me that I _don't_ feel for you. Look how crazy it's made you. Look at the stupid things you do trying to protect her."

Jace clenched his hands into fists, and then winced from the pain of the forgotten injury. "I—"

"Shut up," Alec interrupted. "I'm not done. You claim to know what I do and do not feel. Well, I know _exactly_ how you feel, Jace. How it is to want so desperately what you can never have. How the knowledge that you can't have it doesn't make the longing any more bearable, how it only makes the pain more acute. I know how it feels to have your insides always cold, always knotted and twisted. It's like a Mark with no purpose, burning and singeing your flesh, leaving it forever blackened, but accomplishing nothing. I know how it feels. It hurts like Hell." Finished with his speech, Alec stood defiantly glaring at the blond, his only movement the exaggerated rise and fall of his chest.

Jace drew his eyebrows together. "Well, _that_ was poetic," he said lightly. "Alright, fine."

"Fine, what?" Alec asked.

"Fine. Maybe you're right. Maybe you are in love with me," Jace shrugged. This conversation had not gone the way he'd intended. He'd riled Alec out of his own need to escape thoughts of Clary, and Alec's monologue had only made it worse. He wanted action, wanted to be out slaying demons. Since that was impossible, he'd settle for whatever fight he could get. "But if that's the case," he continued, "then you're even worse off than I'd thought. I believed you were simply confused about your misplaced affection, but if you really feel that way…" he trailed off, baiting Alec.

"If I really feel that way, what?" Alec's voice was low and shaky.

"If you really feel that way about me, then you're a coward. I told you to kiss me, gave you the chance. But you were too weak to take it."

Jace knew it was the lowest of blows. He hated himself for being cruel to Alec, but he couldn't seem to make himself stop. He'd already crushed himself and Clary today, why stop there? Maybe when he was done here he'd go find Isabelle and see if he couldn't completely shatter her, as well.

It was with relief that Jace noted Alec was storming over to him, his arms coming up, Jace assumed, to punch him in the face. He'd let Alec land that first punch. It was only fair after the way Jace had used him. He stood still and braced for the blow, but was completely unprepared for what actually happened.

Alec's hands were not clenched into fists, and he did not strike Jace with them. Instead, Jace felt the warm pressure of two hands cupping his face. The sensation was bizarre. He'd had girls touch him this way, most notably Clary, but her hands were dainty and small, soft. Alec's hands were masculine; bigger, stronger, the hands of a warrior. Jace's breath hitched as Alec caught and held his gaze steadily. The internal struggle in his head flashed clearly on the sapphire playing fields of his eyes. Then he blinked, and the indecision was gone. Jace had only a moment to register surprise, the same shock he'd felt the night he'd pushed Clary and she'd confessed her feelings to him. He'd never expected her to blurt out the truth, and he'd never expected Alec to actually kiss him. But that shock was washed away by the sudden hot weight of the blue-eyed boy's lips covering his.

Alec's kiss was soft at first, nothing but the slow even pressure of mostly stilled lips; hesitant, but not reluctant. Almost as if he knew this was a one-time shot, and was determined to stretch the experience out, to memorize it exactly. Jace stood very still, not responding, but not pulling away either. After a few prolonged seconds, Alec drew back slightly to search the other boy's eyes. Jace couldn't even begin to guess what he saw in them—his own mind was a whirl of confusing and conflicting emotions—but whatever it was, it seemed to reassure him. Alec slid his hands from Jace's face to his blond locks, playing lightly with the golden curls while never breaking eye contact.

A flicker of heat like blue flames flashed in the dark haired boy's eyes and then Jace felt the dynamic of Alec's touch change again. The hands in his hair were no longer soft. They tangled and pulled in Jace's locks in a way that was both painful and incredibly pleasant. He used the leverage of his strong hands to pull Jace into him, back into the kiss. Though, like Alec, the kiss had changed. The timidity and softness gave way to forcefulness and confidence. When Alec used his lips to demandingly pry Jace's open, to his own detached shock, Jace felt himself responding. Completely of their own volition, his arms snaked around his friend's body and pulled him in even closer, effectively eliminating the space between them. The action sent waves of pain up Jace's arm from his injured hand, but he didn't mind. The intoxicating combination of pain and unexpected pleasure was exhilarating.

Alec sucked his breath in through his teeth, in clear shock at Jace's reaction to their embrace. Jace used that moment of stillness to turn the tide of the encounter, to become the aggressor. He caught Alec's swollen bottom lip between his own, sucking softly and then raking it slowly, so slowly, between his teeth before biting down carefully. Alec moaned and opened his eyes. The look he gave Jace was so full of heat, so full of _want_ that an involuntary tremor racked his spine. He bit down harder on Alec's lip. Alec moaned again.

The boys were parabatai, a perfectly matched pair of warriors. On the battlefield they instinctively played off one another's movements, synchronizing themselves in the dance of combat. But now that inherent knowledge was having a different effect. It meant that when Alec's knees gave out and he began to fall backwards, pulling Jace with him, that Jace was able to use his good arm to keep Alec's head from hitting marble, and was fast enough to hitch his leg around Alec's thigh, softening the impact when they fell. The boys landed twisted sideways, a tangle of arms and legs. Alec's lip was bleeding slightly, but Jace covered it with his own mouth and sucked lightly, erasing the red stain from Alec's face and Jace's thoughts.

Alec rolled over and pinned Jace beneath him. The blond boy didn't struggle, but let himself be restrained; allowed the other boy to take control. Alec was using his arms to displace some of his weight, so though their bodies were pressed firmly together, the weight of it was not oppressive. The kiss—which had been broken with the shift—now started again in earnest. Alec's lips were demanding on his own, and when Jace felt him seeking entrance with his tongue, he parted them in submission. When he felt the first caress of it pass his lips, he closed them on it, drawing it into his own mouth with gentle pulls. Alec groaned against him, causing Jace to unselfconsciously buck his hips against the other boy. Alec gasped and began to pull away from him, but Jace pulled harder with his mouth, prolonging the contact.

Alec tore away from him, gasping for breath. He sat back, shifting his weight to his knees and the balls of his feet so not to crush Jace's body where he straddled it with his own. "Jace," he said in husky whisper. It was the first word either of them had spoken since they kissed, but it did not break the spell around them. Alec's deep blue eyes flitted down, taking in the way Jace's sweaty, blood stained shirt clung to his well defined chest, then slowly up the hollows of his pale neck where the fine lines evidenced old Marks, up the delicate line of his jaw to his swollen lips, flushed cheeks, and wanton eyes. He took his gaze even further upward, past the tousled mass of blonde hair to where Jace's arms rested, stretched lazily above his head. The sight of Jace's mangled hand caused his breath to catch in his throat. "Let me fix your hand," he breathed, and went to pull his stele from his back pocket. Jace reached for him with his undamaged hand, and grasped Alec by the upper arm.

"No," the word was soft but firm, just like his grip as he pulled the other boy back down to him slowly.

Alec resisted, apprehension written clearly on his slim features. "Are you sure you—"

Jace stopped the flow of words with a single finger pressed against Alec's lips. Suddenly emboldened by Jace's apparent lack of hesitation, Alec drew the slim finger into his mouth, sucking softly on it. Golden eyes rolled back as Jace pushed his head against the cold marble and arched his chest up towards the other boy. Alec began tracing agonizingly slow circles around the circumference of Jace's finger, but reached with his free hand for his stele. He grasped Jace's injured arm at the elbow, and pushed it down firmly to the ground.

Jace felt the hot burn of the iratze Mark being applied, and the small pain intensified every other sensation. He groaned and bucked against Alec again.

"Be still," Alec moaned after he released Jace's finger from his mouth. He leaned in to get a better angle for the Mark, which brought his breath coming in quick gusts on Jace's neck. Jace writhed beneath him.

The Mark, finally completed, began to wash warm soothing waves up Jace's arm. The pain was ebbing, and in its absence, clarity of mind was coming back. Jace didn't want to think clearly, he wanted the oblivion he was finding in the heady cocktail of physical pain and Alec's embrace. With a cry of desperation, Jace reached up and grasped Alec's face between his hands. He crushed his lips to Alec's, kneading and sucking and nibbling, but it wasn't enough, wasn't nearly enough. He could still think, he could still remember. He needed more. More sensation, more contact. _More_!

He slid his hands roughly from Alec's dark hair, down his spine, to where his tee shirt was riding up his stomach. Not wanting the separation that it would take to slip the shirt over Alec's head, Jace used his strong hands to rend the fabric in two, then ripped it away to expose Alec's glistening chest. Broken little pants were issuing from Alec's mouth, rippling up his chest. "Jace—" he gasped into their feverish kiss.

"Shut up," Jace threw his earlier demand back at him. He clutched one of Alec's hands in each of his own and drew them down to his hips where the hem of his shirt was pulled taught. He guided Alec's trembling fingers beneath the fabric a half inch above where the top of his pants met his bare flesh. With a sigh Jace closed his eyes and dropped his arms to the ground at his side, leaving Alec in control. For an instant, Alec's hands were still on the skin of Jace's stomach, and Jace began to worry that Alec was having second thoughts. But before he had the chance to voice his objection, nimble fingers were smoothing their way across his chest. The contact left trails of white heat, like that of the stele, in their wake, and when Alec's warm palm brushed across Jace's hard nipple, both boys moaned. Jace lay still another moment, soaking in the feel of Alec's hands on his body, before he grew impatient again. "Off," he demanded.

Alec traced his hands back down the same electric path they'd traveled once before. When they arrived back at the hem of Jace's shirt, they gripped it and began traveling up again. Jace arched his lower back off the floor to allow Alec to lift it over his head. The shift of their weight had their bodies pressing together in different ways that made both of them tremble, and which caused it to take an unnecessarily long time to get the shirt off. When it was done, and both boys were bare from the chest up, Jace lowered himself back down against the cold marble, shivering at the feel of it on his flesh.

Alec stared down at Jace, with his skin shining and his hair splayed on the floor around his head like a halo. He'd seen Jace shirtless countless of times before, of course, but he'd never been allowed to _look_ at him. He was breathtaking. Alec let out a low guttural sigh. "By the Angel," he whispered, moving his gaze from Jace's body to meet his eyes.

"Angel?" A wicked grin twisted its way across Jace's mouth. "Not hardly."

Alec smiled back at him and lowered his face towards the blond boy's. Before their lips touched, he angled his descent sideways, pressing his lips instead against the cool hollows under Jace's jaw. Jace moaned, sending vibrations tumbling across his throat to Alec's lips. He lifted himself up and slid himself a few inches down Jace's body, reveling in the rush of skin where their bodies touched. He moved his mouth down Jace's throat, as well, tracing with his tongue the many almost imperceptible outlines that bore witness to old Marks. _Angel,_ but he'd thought about doing this so many times, and the reality of it was infinitely better than the fantasy. The feel of Jace's skin, his smell, even his taste…they were all so much stronger, so much more consuming than Alec could have ever imagined. He used his teeth to tease the skin of Jace's neck, and was rewarded with a shudder followed by the pressure of skilled hands clutching his hair.

Slowly, deliberately, Alec moved even lower, nibbling and licking along the collarbone that outlined perfectly defined pectorals. He shifted his weight to his knees, giving himself the freedom to lick a fiery line across Jace's clavicle, and was unable to stop himself from smiling when the boy took in a ragged breath. He braced his hands on the floor on either side of Jace's shoulders so he would have the stability needed to nuzzle and taste more freely. When he followed a particularly deep etching of an old mendelin rune down the rolling hills of skin over muscle, he was drawn in by the pert patch of golden sensitive skin.

He drew the nipple into his mouth. Jace bucked underneath him, harder than before, and Alec fought to hold on to his shaky control. When Jace stilled, Alec began to suck lightly, drawing it in and teasing it with his tongue. The blond started writhing underneath him again, threatening with his movements to fray Alec's concentration. He responded with his teeth, nibbling and stretching the responsive skin until Jace's growing reactions nearly caused him to come undone. Reluctantly he withdrew and continued on his way down, finding another old scar to outline and fill in with his lips and tongue.

Jace's hands in his hair encouraged Alec's southward descent, pushing him down, and tangling wildly in his long dark locks. Both boys were breathing heavily now, and the sound of their panting and his own blood rushing behind his ears closed the world in around Alec. He could see nothing, hear nothing but the beautiful boy underneath him, just as it had always been.

He leveled out when he reached the sloping skin that marked Jace's navel. He looked up quickly to check the expression on his friend's face, but Jace's head was still thrown back, his eyes still closed. Alec drew a slow spiral around the indention of skin, gradually making his way inward. Tremors rocked the Adonis like muscles of Jace's abdomen, and Alec felt the physical evidence of the other boy's desire through the denim of his jeans pressed against his chest. Alec groaned and his own pants grew tighter in response. It was becoming more and more difficult to practice restraint.

He retreated from Jace's stomach, and moved his ministrations sideways, to the unbelievably appealing landscape of the blond boy's hip. The little crevice there was crying out for Alec to bite at it, so he did, and then brushed his face along the smooth expanse of Jace's stomach to nibble at the matching crevice on the other side. Jace arched off the floor again and let go of Alec's hair, bringing his hands down hard against the marble floor beside him. He clenched them into tight fists and pressed himself upward, seeking even more contact, more friction. He worked his lips over the pale flesh there, and then slowly—painfully slowly—he slid his tongue under the denim fabric that covered Jace's hip. The boy beneath him grew deathly still and silent, and for a moment Alec worried that he'd gone too far, pushed too much. But then, as quickly as the hesitation arrived, it was gone, and Jace was trembling harder than before.

"Don't stop," he choked, so Alec didn't.

They were reaching a point of no return. Alec knew that what they had already done would forever alter the dynamic of their relationship, but looming ahead was a step that could break it completely. As his lips continued tasting the salty skin of Jace's hip, his mind reeled with the possibilities of everything he wanted to do to Jace. Everything he wanted to do _with_ him. But a thought gnawing at the back of his brain stopped him from pushing further. Alec knew that this meant something entirely different to Jace than it did to him. They were both using the situation as a means to their own ends, but if he did with Jace what his blood was screaming at him to do, he didn't know which boy would be taking advantage of the other.

He sat up suddenly, ignoring the discomfort of the marble floor on his knees. He had to stop this; it would be unfair to both of them to take it any further. He raked his eyes regretfully up Jace's body, drinking in a final time his perfect form made even more breathtaking by his vulnerability in that moment. When his gaze reached Jace's face, he was met with deep pleading eyes, as if Jace knew the direction of his thoughts, and hoped to change his mind. "Jace," he began, his voice trembling along with his body.

"No," Jace interrupted him. "Don't say it, Alec. And don't stop. Don't you _dare_ stop."

Alec sat still, indecisive for a moment before Jace reached down and unfastened the top button of his own jeans with strong, sure hands. He met Jace's defiant look with one that he knew showed his confusion as clearly discernable as mundane newsprint. Jace bucked his hips one last time, a final attempt to push Alec's dwindling self-control over the edge.

Alec was never sure which choice he would have made, because as he sat staring silently at the boy whom he had always loved, the ring of echoing footsteps sounded just outside the door. _What if it's Isabelle, or my parents?_ Alec thought wildly. _Get up_. _I have to get up._

"Get up," Jace hissed and pushed Alec off him. Jace had just gotten his pants buttoned and his shirt pulled back down over his head, and Alec was wondering what he was supposed to do with the ruined scraps of his own shirt when his sister slammed open the door and waltzed into the room.

"What are you guys doing?" Isabelle asked, knitting her eyebrows close together in confusion.

"We were…I was, uh."

Jace rolled his eyes and lifted his still bandaged but no longer injured hand. "Alec was just helping me out with an iratze."

"Shirtless?" Isabelle prompted.

"It got stained," Jace shrugged. "So what did you need, Isabelle?" He asked coolly, only a small clenching of his fists to indicate his inner turmoil.

"We need you both down in the study, Aline has run off," she said softly, then turned to go.

Alec threw one last wistful glance over his shoulder at Jace, and then followed after his sister, still unsure whether he was grateful or furious with her for intruding.


	2. Searching

_Author's Note: Firstly I want to thank you for all the kind reviews for chapter one. Trust me, I am enjoying writing this as much as you enjoy reading it…probably more. There are at least ten chapters to this story dancing away in my head, so I won't be stopping it anytime soon. I hope you continue to enjoy it! Again, The Mortal Instruments series and characters belong to Cassandra Clare. No copyright infringement is intended._

**Chapter Two**

**  
Searching**

**"We always long for the forbidden things, and desire what is denied us." ~ Francois Rabelais**

Jace followed Isabelle and Alec through the marble corridor, past the broken picture window, and down a spiraling flight of steps. He hadn't listened to a word of the explanation his adoptive sister had given on the way to the study, he was too deeply buried in his own torrential thoughts to notice anything else. What had he _done?_ In less than one afternoon, he'd managed to completely alienate the two most important people in his entire world, and ruined the possibility of ever having any semblance of a normal relationship with either of them. _Not, _Jace thought_, that either relationship had been particularly normal before today._

When the three teenagers entered the study, they found every available seat already taken. Robert and Marys Lightwood sat on a plush red sofa identical to the one that held the adult Penhallows. Several other Shadowhunters that Jace knew by sight rather than name were perched on hard chairs not unlike the one Alec had knocked over upstairs. In the corner of the room, lounging in a plush recliner, was Sebastian Verloc. The dark haired boy was Aline's cousin, and his presence left Jace with a taste like ashes in his mouth. Where the adults all wore thin, drawn expressions of concern, Sebastian's face was open and relaxed, self-assured. He reminded Jace of himself, and Jace hated him for it.

A few of the nameless Shadowhunters glanced impassively at Jace, but he was used to such appraisals. As Madeline had predicted to Clary, about half of the Nephilim believed he'd known he was Valentine's son all along, and the other half believed he was in league with him now. He ignored their glances and addressed the Lightwoods. "What has happened?"

"It's Aline," Mrs. Penhallow answered, instead. "She ran off to the stables to ride, but we checked with the servants, and she never arrived. It is not a safe time for anyone in Idris to be alone after dark, particularly one as trusting and naïve as Aline." She glared at Jace as she said this, and he took that as confirmation that she knew exactly what had happened to send her daughter rushing off alone. A strike of remorse hit him in the stomach, but he kept it from showing on his face. If something happened to Aline, it would be his fault. He mentally added her name to the list of people whose lives he'd screwed up. The list was growing ridiculously long.

Jace listened quietly while Mr. Penhallow divided the room into groups and gave them specific areas to search for his daughter. Isabelle was ordered to stay at the estate with Max, in case Aline came back on her own. She was angry, assuming that they were trying to protect her. Jace would have happily switched assignments with Isabelle, though. He was grouped together with Alec and Sebastian. He expected that they composed probably the most uncomfortable search party in known history.

Maybe it wouldn't be so bad, though. Alec was his best friend, his parabatai, despite what had happened between them upstairs. Maybe it wouldn't have to be awkward with him. Jace had made a concerted effort to _not_ look at Alec since they'd arrived in the study, but he glanced up at him now. Alec was staring right back at him, his cheeks flushed, and an unknown emotion—remorse, or maybe disgust—swimming in the depths of his ocean eyes. Alright, so maybe _awkward_ didn't even begin to scratch the surface of how uncomfortable this was going to be.

The boys were assigned to search in the western forest that bordered the city of Alicante. It was an unlikely place for Aline to have gone, but Jace assumed that was intentional. The Penhallows would—unsurprisingly—not want Jace anywhere nearer to her than absolutely necessary. There had been rumors of wild game animals in these woods before, maybe they were hoping he'd be eaten by a bear. Considering all that had happened today, he could imagine worse fates. Being bear food would probably hurt a lot less than ripping your own heart out.

They were only a few feet outside the front door of the estate when Jace began contemplating how pleasurable it would be to watch a bear devour Sebastian. "So, Clary—your sister—is she okay? She left in a bit of a huff."

_A bit of a huff? _Sebastian was the very definition of a prat. "We had a small disagreement, but she'll be fine," Jace lied smoothly, and felt Alec stiffen behind him.

"Is she still here, then? In Alicante?" Sebastian pressed.

"No. She went back to New York." _I hope_, he amended silently.

"That's a shame. I was looking forward to getting to know her. She seems," he paused as if searching for a fitting word, "fiery."

Alec snorted. "_That_ is an appropriate description."

Jace whirled around to glare at him, and the chuckle died in Alec's throat.

"So why exactly are we searching the western border, anyway?" Jace turned back to Sebastian, eager to draw the discussion away from Clary. "Is there any reason at all for Aline to go there?"

"None that I can think of, especially on foot. Then again, Aline has never been accused of being particularly reasonable." Sebastian turned to look at Jace and smirked. "I wonder what could have possibly set her off this time?"

Jace ignored the insinuation. "So how are we supposed to walk there and back before nightfall ourselves, since everyone is so insistent we arrive back before dark?"

"We don't," Sebastian laughed. "We're headed to the stables first. My steed is penned there, and there are two horses for you to ride as well. You do know how to ride, I assume."

Alec blushed scarlet. "We know how to ride."

The rest of the walk to the stables was uneventful. Sebastian seemed comfortable with silence, and Jace and Alec seemed unsure of anything to say. Their horses were already prepared for them when the boys arrived, and they were mounted and on their way in a few short minutes. Jace allowed Sebastian to take the lead position, content, for once, to follow. The trip to the western border did nothing to ease Jace's melancholy mood. Horses had been something he'd always associated with his father, and he hadn't been near one since he moved to New York. Being atop a horse _and_ surrounded by the beauty and scents of Idris, well, Valentine might as well have been running along beside him for how strongly Jace could feel his presence. And if the council was right, Valentine _might_ be somewhere very close. The thought both excited and sickened him.

They did not find Valentine, however. Nor did they find Aline. To Jace's shock and dismay, it was a very different girl that they happened across just before the plains gave way to the trees.

"Clary?" he called to her from across the field.

She whipped around to face him, and even from a distance he could see that her eyes were still rimmed with red and puffy from crying, and he could see that she was still beautiful. His heart galloped faster than the hooves of the stallion he rode. He dug his heels into the horse's sides, easily passing Sebastian, and leaving Alec trailing far behind. When he rode up next to Clary, he jumped swiftly down to confront her.

"Clary," he called, wanting to grab her shoulders and shake them. She stood staring at him defiantly, but didn't speak. "Clary, what the _hell_ are you doing here?"

"Dancing a jig. Converting to Scientology. Hiding the 'do not remove' tag that I pulled from my mattress. What I'm doing here is none of your business, Jace. You made it very clear that you want no part of it," she said heatedly.

"I thought you were going back to New York! I said—"

"You say a lot of things, Jace." Her voice was steely. "That doesn't mean that I listen to any of them."

Sebastian, who had ridden up next to them, laughed from atop his horse. "Commendable attitude. But it isn't safe for you to be alone out here, Clary. You should allow your brother to escort you back into the city."

Clary darted a quick glance in Jace's direction, her eyes lingering on him for only an instant, but it was long enough for him to see the pain etched there. "I'm not going anywhere with _him_," she spat.

Jace flinched, but said nothing.

If Sebastian was taken aback by the venom in her voice, he didn't let on. "Alright then, perhaps you'd allow Mr. Lightwood or me to do the honor? These really aren't safe times for anyone to be alone. Especially in the woods."

"I'm not _in the woods_," Clary insisted. "And I'm not alone. I'm meeting someone here."

"Who are you meeting? You don't know anyone from Alicante," Jace asked, unable to help himself. He was shaken up by the way Sebastian was watching Clary. He felt a sudden irrational longing—the first time he had ever felt it—for Simon to be there with him. As much as he disliked the Vampire, he felt sure Simon would disapprove of Sebastian as wholly as he did.

"You don't know everything, Jace," Clary replied. She looked at Sebastian, still atop his horse, then turned her attention back to where Jace and Alec were standing.

"Can I trust him?" she asked, gesturing to Sebastian.

"No," Jace said quickly at the same time that Alec said "I don't know."

An impish smile formed on Sebastian's lips. "Nice to know I'm so highly thought of."

"Sorry," Clary looked sheepishly at the boy, and Jace could have sworn she actually blushed. It was all he could do not to rush Sebastian and cut off his head with a Seraph blade. "Its only that this is a…sensitive matter. I hate to bring you into it, seeing that I hardly know you."

"I understand," Sebastian said kindly, and for a moment, Jace could even believe that he did. "Do you need a moment alone with your brother?"

Clary flushed a brighter shade of ruby and shook her head quickly. "Its nothing like…nothing like that," she finished lamely. "But it would be nice if I could speak with Jace and Alec alone for a moment?" her voice lilted at the end, making a question out of her statement.

Sebastian smiled warmly at her. "I'll just go into the forest and check out a few of the major trails then, and then I'll return in, say, ten minutes?"

Clary beamed at him. "I really appreciate that."

Sebastian bowed his head to her like a cowboy in an old mundie western movie, and took off on horseback into the trees. Jace wanted to throw up.

"So what is this about?" Jace demanded without preamble. "What insane notion has you alone out by the border of the city when you should be safely in New York?"

Clary snorted. "Yes, Jace. Because I've clearly been oh so safe in New York lately. What, with the Ravener demons and the mom-napping, the Forsaken warriors, and the evil-overlord-who-happens-to-be-my-father sending demon hordes after me, not to mention the sword fights and werewolf brawls. You're right, New York is like a warm snuggly blanket of lollipops and safety. I should absolutely go back there right now. And in case you've forgotten _dear_ _brother_, I seemed to handle myself pretty well against all of those things."

How well he knew she had. She'd been incredible; so brave, so smart. Without her talent and quick thinking, they would have all died on that cursed ship. That was exactly why he couldn't risk her presence in Alicante. It was a feverish ache to know that he could never have her, that she could never be his, but he'd accepted that, albeit grudgingly. It was a wholly other sort of agony to imagine a world where she didn't exist, to think of what might happen to her if the Clave used her as a tool, and she got hurt. Or worse.

"Clary, we've been over this—"

"Well, well. I hate to interrupt what appears to be a heartwarming family reunion, but this tree here keeps poking me in the ass, and I'm really quite fond of these pants. It'd be a shame of they were ruined." The voice issuing from the forest was impossible not to recognize.

"Magnus?" Alec hissed, and took a step forward until he was level with Jace.

The warlock emerged from the trees, and for a moment Jace thought he'd been wrong, thought that perhaps it wasn't Magnus after all. His black hair blew softly around his face, devoid of its usual spikes and sparkles. His clothing, too, was missing its usual vibrancy. He was clad all in black leather, without even a hint of color or glitter at all. He looked shockingly…_normal_.

"Magnus?" Alec repeated. "Magnus, what are you _doing_ here?"

"I'm helping a friend," he replied stiffly, and then turned to smile at Clary. From the pocket of his very tight leather pants, he pulled out a purple velvet pouch and placed it in her waiting hands. "That should be everything, Clary. But if you need anything else, you know how to reach me."

Clary nodded and tucked the pouch away into the inside pocket of her green coat.

Alec's voice sounded strained, almost panicked. "But, you can't _be_ here Magnus, it isn't allowed!"

"Don't get your panties in a wad, Shadowhunter, I have permission."

Jace must have looked skeptical because Magnus smiled and addressed him directly. "I do, Scout's honor. I got the golden ticket on account of my assistance to the Nephilim helping to thwart Valentine's dastardly scheme, and to be a witness of all that happened that day."

Jace glowered at him, but Magnus winked. They had discussed Jace's desire to keep the Clave out of the loop regarding Clary's role in what happened on that ship, and Downworlder or not, Jace felt like he could trust the old warlock to keep his word.

"All the same," Magnus went on, "I'm staying outside the city until I'm called in to give my official testimony. Invitation or not, I think everyone would feel more comfortable with a little distance between me and the mighty Clave." Magnus turned to look at Alec, and the amused look on his face slid away like melting icecream. His eyes darted quickly back and forth between Jace's neck and Alec's face. "I doubt the Glass City has seen the likes of me before," his voice had grown cold and hollow. "But really, I suppose they haven't seen the likes of any of us. What an ensemble we make: the gay high warlock who is in love with a gay Nephilim who is in love with his," Magnus faked a cough, "_straight_ parabatai, who just so happens to be in love with _his_ sister. Honestly. Jerry Springer couldn't make this shit up."

A thick, shocked silence fell around them for a moment, before Magnus spoke up again. His voice sounded ancient, and infinitely sad. His dark eyes locked on the deep blue of Alec's and held his gaze as he spoke. "But it looks like someone, at least, is finding their happy ending." With that he turned and stalked back into the woods, without another word, and without a single glance back at the three Shadowhunters.

They stood there, refusing to make eye contact with each other. Finally, Clary couldn't take the awkward silence any longer. "What exactly just happened there? What was Magnus even talking about?"

Jace looked up at Clary skeptically. "I thought he made himself pretty clear."

"Right," Clary flushed. "Up to a point. I was with him up to the bit about Jerry Springer, but after that…happy endings? What was _that_ all about?"

Alec blanched but Jace shrugged nonchalantly. "Who knows? He's a Warlock. They thrive on being obscure. Obscurity is the new rainbow pleather."

Clary lips spread into a thin smile that didn't reach her eyes. "He seemed so sad," she observed, sounding sad herself.

The boys were saved having to answer by the sound of approaching hooves. Sebastian had returned. The moment he appeared from the trees, Clary smiled up at him. "I'd appreciate it if you would give me a ride back into the city."

Sebastian returned her tight smile with a wide, genuine one of his own. "It will be my pleasure," he said formally, then reached down and grabbed Clary's hand, pulling her effortlessly up behind him. "Hold on tight," he instructed, and Jace watched as her slender, dainty arms encircled Sebastian's waist. With a smug smile Sebastian looked down at Jace and Alec. "I checked the main trails, but perhaps you should check the pathways farther in. You know the way back?"

The parabatai nodded in unison.

"Then I'm sure I will see you both at the estate." Without another word or glance from either Sebastian or Clary, they rode off into the sunset, back to the heart of Idris.

"Well," Alec said, looking down at his boots, "I guess I should have expected Magnus to figure it out immediately."

"Figure what out?" Jace asked offhandedly, while he stepped into the stirrup and lifted his body over the saddle.

Alec looked up sharply to meet Jace's eyes. "What happened earlier, with us," he choked.

"Right," said Jace. "Well, I hope it won't stand in the way of your reconciliation."

"Reconciliation?" Alec spat. "Magnus and I aren't…it isn't like that between us anymore. I told you that already." He mounted his own horse and rode up next to Jace.

"Right. But that was just because you thought you were in love with me. Now that you know better—"

"Now that WHAT?!" Alec shouted. "By the Angel, Jace. You're still trying to tell me how I feel? I thought I did a pretty good job of _showing_ you exactly how I felt earlier, and you sure as hell weren't arguing with me then!"

"That was—I mean," Jace's cheeks flushed and he looked away. "That was a mistake, Alec. I'm sorry. It won't happen again."

"You're _sorry_? Don't say that to me, Jace, don't you dare say that. You're sorry? Why? Because I'm a guy, or because I'm _not your sister_?"

Jace dug his heels lightly against the sides of the chestnut horse, and he began trotting slowly towards the tree line. "Neither," he answered, without looking back to see if Alec was following him. "It's not that easy, Alec. I'm not—what happened, we were both upset. You know I have no problem with you and Magnus, but I'm not—what I mean to say is, I like girls."

Alec snorted. "Yeah, I know you like girls. But when you were writhing on the floor begging me not to stop," he shook his head, as if trying to clear away the memory, "It seemed to me that you liked that, too."

"What was that?" Jace hissed, and ordered the horse to stop.

"When I was kissing you?" Alec stopped beside him.

"No, in the trees. Didn't you hear that?"

"Okay, now that was a really pathetic attempt to change the subject, Jace," Alec said bitterly. "I expected better tactics from you."

"I'm not trying to change—well, yes, I _am_ trying to change the subject, but I really did hear something."

"Sure you did," disbelief colored Alec's voice.

"Shut up," Jace said, and felt the blood rush to his cheeks when he remembered the last time he'd given Alec that order.

Alec looked up with heat in his eyes, as if he were reliving the same memory. He startled when a loud cracking sound broke the relative silence. It wasn't possible to discern exactly where the noise had come from, but it had obviously originated from somewhere in the woods.

"Told you so," Jace said, and smoothly dismounted.

"What are you doing?" Alec asked.

"I'm going to check out the mysterious noise in the dark forest. There will probably be a demon or an escaped lunatic with a chainsaw; standard horror movie stuff. The sexy blond is usually the first to get hacked into pieces, but the sexy blond usually doesn't have one of _these_," Jace said, and pulled out a Seraph blade. "Also, they are usually just eye candy, whereas I fulfill both the roles of delicious eye candy and bad ass demon slayer."

"I meant what were you doing going _on foot_?" Alec said tonelessly, ignoring Jace's attempts at humor.

"The trees are too close together to allow for horses off the path, and it has been a long time since I trained to fight on horseback. I feel better on my own two feet."

"What about the horses?" Alec asked, jumping down to the ground.

"We can tie them up here and come back for them."

After the horses were secured to two separate trees, the Shadowhunters pulled out their witchlight rune stones and strode into the forest.

They hadn't traveled more than a few feet along the path when another loud crack issued from within the woods. Jace took off at a run, leaving behind the worn trail and charting one of his own through the dense groundcover. Alec sped after him, easily keeping pace with his supernatural speed.

The thought crossed Jace's mind that he was going to feel moronic if they charged in blades flashing after a deer or a farmer, but he couldn't bring himself to care. He had too much pent up energy, his blood was pulsing too hot and electric in his veins. He had to do _something_ to work off the tension. His mind raced back to what he had done with his closest friend back at the estate, and his blood ran even hotter. _Something other than that_, he thought desperately.

He caught an acrid, unmistakable scent in the air then, growing stronger with every stride he took. _Demon_. And it had to be close from the smell of it. Jace looked over his shoulder at Alec, who nodded his head once to show that he understood. Both boys slowed their pace until they were silently stalking from tree to tree. Less than one hundred feet away from where Jace had first scented the demon, he spotted it. It was a Drevak demon, like the one that had attacked the werewolf girl Maia at Luke's house. It was odd that it would be out here in the middle of nowhere, and odder still that it would be alone.

Jace rode a wave of disappointment. He was glad to have a battle ahead of him—a demon slaying was just the type of release he was after. But a single Drevak would be easy for two well trained Nephilim to dispatch, far _too_ easy. There wouldn't be nearly enough excitement, not nearly enough _danger_ to satisfy the searing ache in Jace's bones. Grinning, he turned to whisper to Alec. "Stand guard," he smirked. "This one's mine."

Alec shook his head from side to side, but didn't follow Jace any further into the clearing. Jace stopped walking silently, deciding that the element of surprise would only make the slaying more boring. Better that the demon was prepared. The demon dropped the bloody carcass of some unknown animal to the ground to look at Jace. What was left of its ravaged body hinted at canine origins. _Someone's hunting dog? Or were there werewolves prowling in Idris now, too?_ He would have to puzzle that mystery out later, because the Drevak was coming at him quickly, it's bloody spiny teeth gleaming eerily from the glow of Jace's Seraph blade and the witchlight he had activated.

The demon had come within ten yards of Jace before it whipped around quickly and took off running into the forest. Jace raised and eyebrow and took off after it, pleased and surprised that this particular demon was making it more of a challenge than he had expected. He was completely taken off guard when the second Drevak jumped out from behind a tree and knocked him to the ground on top of his Seraph blade, cutting his shoulder. He stood up to face the demon. It was his left shoulder—his dominant arm—that had been injured. He briefly considered calling Alec for help, but decided against it.

Fighting the demon with his right arm would make it all the more interesting. He smiled and lunged toward it, Seraph blade glowing in the darkness.

Within minutes Jace had vanquished the Drevak back to whatever dimension it hailed from. He was bloody where he'd been cut by his own blade, and sweaty from the physical exertion of fighting. He felt fantastic and pleased with himself that he managed to defeat the demon so handily with his non-dominant arm. Alec, however, seemed less pleased when he ran into the clearing and caught sight of Jace.

"God, Jace! Why do you _do_ that?"

"Do what?" Jace groaned, eyeing his bloodied shoulder wearily.

"Act so…so damned recklessly! Do you want to die? Is that what this is about? I thought after everything that had happened with Clary, that you'd be past that by now."

Jace hissed. "This has _nothing_ to do with Clary. I wasn't trying to die, Alec. If that was what I was after, there are plenty of ways I would choose over death by Drevak. It would be embarrassing to get taken down by one of those things. I'd rather get killed in a hit and run moped accident."

Alec threw his hands in the air. "And why must you make everything into a joke? This isn't funny, this is real life or death stuff happening. If we're right, and Valentine sent these demons, people are going to die, Jace. We almost _did_ die the last time we faced him, or have your forgotten that? Are you so busy pretending not to care about anyone or anything that you can't see what's staring you in the face. Stop screwing around with the people you love, because there's a good chance some of us might not live long enough to hear your apology."

Jace blinked in surprise at the outburst. The old Alec had never been so blunt with him, but since that night on Valentine's ship, his friend had been more demanding and bold. This afternoon had proved that beyond the shadow of a doubt. Jace steadied himself with his uninjured arm and rose to his feet. He tried unsuccessfully to hide the wince of pain from where his shoulder stretched and bled. Why did it have to be his left shoulder? If it had been his right arm, he would have been able to draw his own iratze, but as it was…he bit his lip and looked guiltily up at Alec, fighting to hide the little hitch in his breathing and the speed of his pulse as he thought of the last Mark he had administered.

"Could you give me a hand here?" he asked, lowering his gaze to stare at his own boots. He didn't want to admit—even to himself—that he wasn't sure he was strong enough to look into Alec's sapphire eyes and find them filled with heat. What had happened earlier had been a mistake, he knew that. It couldn't happen again, he wouldn't _let_ it happen again. If he could only keep from looking at Alec, keep himself from seeing the longing written across his features, he could be strong enough. He _would_ be strong enough. It was a good plan, and it might have even worked, if only Alec's voice hadn't been so husky and saturated with primal want when he replied.

"Of course," Alec exhaled, and closed the distance between them, walking slowly to where the blond stood leaning against the trunk of a massive oak tree. "It isn't poisoned, is it? He didn't get you with claws or teeth?"

Jace shook his head, he was still looking down, but since Alec had moved directly in front of him, that view was no longer safe either. The finely sculpted muscles of Alec's chest and stomach were glistening with sweat and tiny rivulets of blood where they were visible through the tears in his shirt where branches had slashed fabric and skin as he ran through the woods. Jace's entire being reacted to the sight of Alec's body. His own body remembered all too clearly the feel of that skin against his own, the salty elixir of sweat and lust that would be so easy to reach out and reclaim. With great effort he pried his eyes away from Alec's body and up to his face. It was the stupidest thing he could have done.

Alec was looking at Jace with pure, unbridled longing. His eyes were wide, and so dark they were nearly black. His mouth was slightly open, and the way he caught his own bottom lip between his teeth made the gasping of his breath sound like stuttered whistles. He held his arms crossed tightly against his chest, as if he were physically fighting not to reach out and touch the blond. Jace realized with relief and disappointment that Alec never would touch him again. Not after Jace's spiel about what a mistake it had been. Alec had been strong enough to feel this way for years and never make the first move, and he was proud. He wouldn't risk that kind of rejection again.

They would go back to being friends. It was the right thing, Jace reminded himself silently. The best thing for both of them. He was still mentally extolling the virtues of not touching Alec at the same time that he reached out, hooking his hand into the boy's pocket, and pulled him forward forcefully. Both boys moaned when their bodies slammed together. Alec in surprise and pleasure, and Jace in pain from where Alec's weight had crushed his injured shoulder against the rough bark of the tree.

"Oh, God," Alec exhaled, not breaking their eye contact. "Your shoulder."

"Leave it," Jace breathed, barely recognizing the tones of his own voice, so blended with pain and pleasure and need. He slid his hand from where it clutched at Alec's pocket around underneath his torn shirt to place his palm against the dark haired boy's lower back. Before Alec had time to react, Jace pulled him harder against his own body and covered his mouth with a searing kiss.

Alec needed no more encouragement than that. The hesitancy Jace had sensed in the other boy melted away like the black of a used up Mark. One of Alec's strong hands wove its way behind Jace's head and into his damp hair. It was not gentle. He closed his fist around the locks, pulling as if he were angry, as if he wanted to hurt him. Jace whimpered and let his head fall heavily against the tree. Alec wasted no time in taking advantage of Jace's newly exposed neck. He lunged for the hollow beneath his jaw, licking and sucking and nibbling. His mouth was gentler than his hands, but only just.

"Alec," Jace moaned, not sure if he meant to encourage him or fend him off.

His intention didn't matter. The sound of his name so passionately on Jace's lips sent a racking shudder through Alec. He cried out and bucked against Jace, pressing him harder into the tree.

Beads of sweat were forming on the creased forehead below Jace's blond hair. The agonizing pain and pleasure of it all had him on sensory overload. Much more of this potent sensation and Jace thought he was likely to pass out.

"Alec," he tried again, "Alec, my shoulder." He felt the immediate loss of Alec's body heat as the blue-eyed boy stepped away from him, and drew his stele out. With shaky hands, Alec silently traced over the iratze on Jace's left arm, then covered the newly darkened rune with his mouth, gently teasing it with his teeth. The searing burn of it was incredible, and Jace cried out Alec's name, then opened his heavily lidded eyes to drink in his face.

"If you keep making the healing runes like this, I'm not going to be able to even _look_ at a stele without—"

"Without what?" Alec whispered, pressing his hips back against Jace's.

Jace responded by sliding his hands back up Alec's torn shirt, gliding his fingers along the corded muscles of his back, and gripping his shoulder blades tightly. Using his grasp as leverage, he pulled the other boy against him, feeling the scratches of the tree bark against his own back, and not caring in the least.

Alec's searching lips left Jace's again, and swiftly went to work on the skin below his ear. Jace sighed and tilted his head to allow the other boy better access to continue the beautiful torture. He shivered when he felt the unmistakable pull of teeth on his earlobe, and Alec chuckled softly at the reaction. The exhale of the laugh brushed along the sensitive skin of Jace's ear, and another little spasm racked his spine. He jerked his hips sideways, creating a friction where their bodies touched that brought strangled groans from both boys, effectively cutting off Alec's laughter.

The dark haired boy restarted the slow manipulation of Jace's earlobe, and moved his hands down from the blond hair to tickle the curve of his neck and rest lightly atop his shoulders. He pulled his body back ever so slightly until the contact between them was only the lightest pressure. Jace raced his hands desperately down the other boy's back to grab his ass and pull him back to him, but Alec shook his head.

"No," Alec blew a hot breath in his ear, and pulled his body back again. "Turn around."

Jace pushed himself away from Alec, pressing tightly back against the tree. His voice held a desperate, panicked edge. "I don't think…I mean I'm not—"

"Shh," Alec put a finger against the other boy's lips to silence him, exactly as Jace had done to him that afternoon. "I know." He used his hands on Jace's shoulders to twist, encouraging him to turn.

"I…"

"Trust me," Alec moaned, and from the weight of his voice, Jace wasn't sure if it was a question or a demand.

He nodded.

"Then turn around."

Jace repositioned himself slowly, timidly, so that he was facing the tree. He brought both arms up to rest against his forehead—like a small child playing hide and seek—to protect his face from the punishing bark.

He flinched when he felt Alec step up behind him and press the heated lines of his body against his back. Alec slid either hand softly from the blades of his shoulders to his sides, tickling down his ribcage through the fabric of his shirt. It felt incredible, but Jace longed for the feel of skin on skin, wanted to feel Alec's flesh rather than his own clothing. He was about to voice that demand when he felt strong hands glide below his shirt, and up underneath it. He moaned and closed his eyes, content to luxuriate in the sensation.

Alec trailed one arm back down and wrapped it firmly around Jace's waist, locking their bodies together and assuring that he was in control of both of their movements. His other arm kept trailing up, teasing him with softly brushing fingertips. When he reached the hardened nub of a nipple, Alec used a fingernail to lightly scrape the sensitive skin. Jace jerked wildly in his grasp, and Alec held on more tightly to him, grinding himself against the other boy.

Jace cried out and felt his bones turn to liquid. It was all he could do to remain standing. Alec placed his lips back on Jace's neck, ticking and teasing just beneath his hairline. Jace gave another twisting jerk of his hips as he pressed back against the other boy, drawing a little keening noise from where Alec's lips caressed his skin.

Jace smiled. He'd liked the sound that Alec had made, liked that he had been the one to pry it from him. It made him feel powerful. He wanted to hear it again. He arched his back slowly, rubbing his ass unhurriedly against where Alec pressed firmly into him, and gave another little sideways jerk. This time, Alec's moan was louder, more desperate. Jace smiled again.

Alec's hand, the one that had been caressing Jace's chest beneath his shirt, began an agonizingly slow descent downward. It made little spirals of sensation along his ribcage, his stomach, and the tops of his hipbones where they peeked out from his low-slung jeans. Jace hissed when he felt both of Alec's thumbs slide beneath the denim.

Alec paused then, still but for the heaving breaths racking his chest. Jace thought he was giving him a chance to object, a chance to say no. A silent promise to stop if this wasn't what Jace wanted. But Jace _did_ want this, and he had absolutely no intention of letting Alec stop now.

Slowly, so slowly that Jace would have had plenty of time to stop him, Alec unhooked his right hand from Jace's pants and slid it down the front of the fabric. When Jace felt Alec's strong hand grasp him through the denim of his jeans, he whimpered and gave himself over completely to the pleasure of it. Everything else was lost. There was no forest around them, no tree holding him up, no ground beneath his feet, and no Clave waiting for them back in the city. There was only the feel of the boy holding him. Only the tide of sensation.

It was then, when Jace had let down every guard, that the second Drevak demon found them.


	3. Jigsaw

_Author's Note: Thanks again for all of your kind reviews, they are a real motivator for me to put aside my own novel this month and delve back into the world of Shadowhunters and Warlocks. Also to blame cough*thank*cough for that is my lovely beta whitelady, who is an absolute doll for beta reading this chapter at two o'clock in the morning. Any mistakes are mine. Again, The Mortal Instruments series and characters belong to Cassandra Clare. No copyright infringement is intended._

"**Why love if losing hurts so much? We love to know that we are not alone." ~ C.S. Lewis**

**Chapter Three**

**Jigsaw**

Half of the night had passed by the time Alec and Jace made their way back to the Penhallow estate.

Alec had swiftly dispatched the Drevak demon that caught them unawares in the forest. Jace had, uncharacteristically, stood by and watched, fighting battles in his own head that were far more critical than any minor demon attack.

The two friends and almost lovers made their way back through the forest to where their horses were tied. Neither of them spoke about what had happened in the woods; not a single word about the touches and kisses they had shared, or about the demons they had slain. Jace kept silent because he didn't know what to say. If he told Alec he was sorry, it would only anger the other boy, and besides, Jace wasn't entirely sure that he _was_ sorry.

He had been wrong to think he could distract himself from his longing for Clary with any other girl. Kissing Aline had been a mistake, he knew that now. It was a cheap imitation of the real thing, a pale shadow of holding the girl he really loved in his arms. It had felt like a betrayal. But kissing Alec—touching Alec—was nothing like being with Clary. And he wasn't betraying anyone, not really, except maybe himself.

The Clave would not approve, naturally, but Jace saw that as a perk rather than a deterrent. He didn't agree with Valentine's view of the Clave, but he no longer saw them as the shining example he once had. He and Alec would have to keep it a secret, though. Jace was not willing to forfeit his life as a Shadowhunter for the sake of this…whatever this was. But they _could_ keep it a secret, and it would be a silent defiance. It made what was going on between them all the more attractive.

But these thoughts had been forced from Jace's mind the instant the two Shadowhunters returned to their horses; what was left of them, anyway. No wonder that second Drevak had been so slow moving and easy to kill. Its stomach had been weighted down by the meal it had made of the two stallions.

Which is why, at nearly four am, the parabatai—bloody, exhausted, and hungry— were finally walking up the pathway that led to the front door of the estate.

Maryse opened the door for them with worried eyes. She obviously had not gone to bed yet, either. "Did you find her?" she asked quietly.

"No," the boys said in unison, and stepped into the foyer. When the glaringly bright lights of the house hit their bloody, torn, and sweat drenched clothes, Maryse let out a little gasp. "What happened to you?"

"There was a demon attack," Alec said as he sat on a stool to remove his boots.

"Did, did they capture you? What kind of demons? Is that why you were gone for so long?" She spat the questions at them quickly, without stopping even to breathe between each inquiry.

"They were just Drevaks, and no, they didn't capture us," Jace sat down opposite Alec and began to remove his muddy boots as well. "We had no problem with them, really; they just…caught us off guard." Jace looked at Alec as he said the last part and saw that the blue-eyed boy's cheeks had filled with blood.

Maryse remained unconvinced. "But what took you so long, then? We've had people out looking for you!"

Jace shuddered at the thought that someone might have found them before the Drevak did.

"We would have been back hours ago," Alec said not quite meeting his mother's eyes, "But the demon ate our horses."

Mrs. Penhallow stepped into the hall behind Maryse and glared at the boys. "You let my horses get eaten by demons?"

"It wasn't deliberate," Jace said. "It wasn't like we _wanted_ to take a pleasure walk across Idris ourselves."

A dark haired girl sauntered into the hallway with her hands on her hips. "It better not have been Gabriel. If you let _my_ horse get eaten I'll kill you with my bare hands!"

"Aline?" Jace asked in confusion. He turned his head quickly from Maryse to the girl, then back to Maryse. "I thought you said she was still missing."

"No," the woman answered, looking suddenly grim. "Aline returned home less than an hour after the search parties went out after her."

Alec rose and walked to stand beside Jace. "Then why did you ask if we'd found her, Mom? If she wasn't missing…"

Maryse grimaced. "I wasn't asking if you'd found Aline. I was..." she hesitated.

"What is it?" Jace demanded, an uncontainable wave of panic washing over his voice.

"It's your sister," Maryse said softly. "She's gone."

"Isabelle?" Alec gasped.

Jace shook his head, but did not look away from Maryse. "No," he hissed. "No, no, NO!"

"It's Clary," Maryse sighed. "She arrived here with Sebastian several hours ago. He left her by the front gate and went back to pen the horse. When he got back, she was gone. She never came into the house, so she may have left intentionally."

"Maybe she went back home, back to New York," Jace suggested, without much conviction.

"That is a possibility, although I think it rather unlikely."

Jace thought it unlikely, too, but he still had to ask. "Why?"

Maryse blanched. "Sebastian is under the impression that she wouldn't leave Idris without the Downworlder."

"Downworlder?" Alec asked from beside him, but Jace already knew what the answer would be. That idiot Sebastian must have told Clary what happened to Simon. Of _course_ Clary would never leave without him. She would never leave anyone she loved in any kind of perceived danger. She would act exactly as she always had. He thought of how she had convinced him to help her go after Simon when he was trapped at the Hotel DuMort. With a pang he remembered the times she had come after _him_; to Renwick's and then again to the Silent City. She never thought of her own safety, by the Angel if anything happened to her…

And then he realized the simple truth of it: if anything happened to Clary, anything at all, it would be his fault. Entirely his fault. He was the reason Simon was here. His fault. Maryse said Clary turned up missing right after she and Sebastian had returned from the forest. Jace should have taken her back himself, should have been there with her. But she would not let him. Had not wanted to be anywhere near him because he had hurt her so badly. She had walked in on him kissing Aline, and then he had said those awful things to her. If he had not done those things she would have let him -–not Sebastian—bring her back to the estate. And she would still be there. Safe. Instead he had stayed behind in the forest and…

_Oh God_. With a burn that cut deeper than the Seraph blade, Jace realized what he had been doing the instant Clary had gone missing, at the very point in time when she had been kidnapped or fled to Angel knew what sort of danger. He had not been there to help her because he had been in the forest, pressed against a tree, lost in Alec's embrace. If she was hurt, he would never, ever forgive himself.

Alec's voice cut through Jace's self flagellation. "What can we do?" He asked Maryse.

"There are several groups still out looking for her. We should hear back from them soon."

"I have to find her," Jace said, and sat down to put his boots back on. "I need another horse."

"Absolutely not," Aline's mother spat from across the room. In his panic over Clary he had forgotten she was even still there. "There aren't any more, and you've proven yourself quite incapable of caring for them."

"Fine, Jace said, I'll go on foot."

Alec stared across the few feet of air that separated him from Jace. There was nothing of substance holding them apart, not physically, yet he felt as if a gaping chasm had broken open between them, one so deep and jagged that it could never be crossed.

"I'm coming with you," Alec said. The startled look Jace gave him was all the proof Alec needed that the blond had completely forgotten he was there, forgotten he existed. There _was_ a barrier between the two boys, visible or not. Clary. Alec realized that it did not matter that Jace could not be with the girl, because he would never _really_ be with anyone else. The part of Jace that had caused him such worry and stress over the years, the thing that drove him to search out danger and pain, it was a Clary-shaped hole. She alone could fit and make Jace a complete being. Alec had spent too long being the puzzle piece that didn't quite fit, but would never stop trying to cram itself into the picture. The revelation hit him hard, and knocked the chains he had been tying himself to Jace with away.

He knew it then, accepted it. It was time to let go.

"Come on," he said, and pulled on the blond boy's shoulder. "We'll find her." They walked out of the estate and into the night without another word.

When they passed the path and the gate, Alec pulled a marbled sapphire hued stone from his pocket and drew it to his lips.

Jace gaped at him. "Did you just kiss a marble?"

"It's not a marble, it's a speaking stone," he said softly, and pressed it once again to his lips.

"Am I supposed to know what the hell that is?" Jace huffed. "Come on, we've got to find her before…before someone else does."

"What do you think I'm doing?"

"Making out with a rock," said Jace.

Alec pulled the stone barely an inch from his mouth and breathed a simple phrase against it. "I need you."

"This is freaking me out, Alec. Are you coming to help me find Clary or not?"

Alec turned on him. He was completely spent. Today had held too much, more than he thought he could possibly bear. From the blissful frustration of his encounters with Jace, to the sight of Magnus's sad eyes in the forest, to the lost look on Jace's face when he realized Clary was gone, to the apathy Jace was showing him now. He snapped. "And how the hell do you intend to find her? In the dark with no horses? Were you going to just wander aimlessly around and hope that we'd stumble over her? Have you even _considered_ the fact that she's probably trying to bust the Vampire out of prison? That if the Clave catches her, they'll throw her right in jail alongside him? As much as people distrust you for being Valentine's son, they are going to distrust her as well. We need to be _smart_ about this, Jace, we don't need to go off half cocked with no plan. We need help."

"I have a plan, to find Clary. I _will_ find her, Alec. And if you're right, and she does break the law, we don't have anyone here that will help us."

Alec kicked the gate. "We do," Alec said guiltily. "Though the Angel knows I don't deserve his help."

The sound of approaching footsteps broke off the boy's conversation, and they watched silently as the warlock appeared from the night.

"Thanks for coming," Alec breathed. "I wasn't entirely sure you would."

Magnus's eyes were sad. "Of course I came," he said softly. "You called me."

Jace glanced at Alec, not quite meeting his eyes, and Alec's intuition flickered. Jace was keeping something from him. Something, it seemed, that he was _not_ keeping from Magnus. "Do you know where she is?" He asked the warlock.

Magnus nodded.

"Is she safe?" Jace asked, and Magnus nodded again. "Where is she?"

"She got lost trying to find the prison," he said simply. "I found her and took her back to one of the cabins I secured for my stay here.

"Where is she now?" Jace demanded.

"I had to leave her in the cabin to come to you, so she's still there."

Jace's eyes went wide and he breathed in through his teeth. "I trusted you! I trusted you and you left her alone! She's not still in the cabin, you know as well as I do that she ran off the minute you left! We have to find her."

"She's in the cabin, Shadowhunter. I'm not stupid. Of course she would flee the instant she had the opportunity, so I _gave_ her no opportunity. I couldn't very well just lock her in, not with her…ability. She's unconscious."

Jace hissed. "Unconscious?"

Magnus shrugged. "She's fine. It was for her own good. A simple spell really, you should have no problem waking her, true love's kiss and all that nonsense."

Jace froze, and Magnus smirked. "Come on, I'll take you to her."

They walked in thick silence for almost an hour before they passed the first line of trees. It should not be possible, they should not have arrived at the border so quickly, but Alec had learned not to question things when Magnus was involved. He was extremely powerful, and sometimes you did not even notice the effects of his magic working around you. They stopped at a fork in the dirt road. Magnus explained that there were two bungalows, one about five hundred feet down the road on the left, and one about the same distance down the road on the right.

"Sleeping beauty," Magnus said airily and pointed to his left, "is that way." He turned in the other direction. "However, I have no desire to be a part of this particular reunion. I'm heading to the other cabin for some beauty sleep. Call if you need me." He didn't glance back at either Shadowhunter.

Jace and Magnus both took off down their respective paths, and Alec stood between them, torn, watching them both go. Up until an hour ago, he'd thought his choice would be clear. He would have followed Jace to the ends of the earth, farther even. But something inside him had changed, remolded itself when he'd watched Jace earlier. He had thought that he was the wrong puzzle piece to fit Jace, but it was more than that. He wasn't the wrong piece at all. Jace just wasn't the right puzzle.

"Magnus?" Alec called to his retreating back. "Magnus, I need to talk to you."

The warlock jerked his head to indicate Alec should follow him. Jace made no sign that he even noticed. Alec jogged a few feet until he reached Magnus's side, and they walked silently up the dusty path and onto the porch of the wooded cabin. Magnus raised his arm and the door swung open, then he gestured for Alec to enter.

The cabin was tiny, really just one room and a bathroom, dominated by a giant king sized bed in the center. There was nowhere else to sit. Alec stood on the rug and turned to face Magnus. He had never been more afraid in his entire life than he was in that moment. He finally knew what he wanted, what he needed. But what if the realization had come too late?

"To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?" Magnus asked stiffly.

Alec sucked in a breath, and wished again that he had given himself the fearless rune. It would make what he was about to do so much easier. "You should know, Magnus. You gave me explicit instructions on when I could and could not come back to you."

Magnus pulled his bottom lip between his teeth. "Did I?"

"You told me to come to you when I realized he wasn't what I really wanted. I did something…something really stupid, Magnus. But you were right, he wasn't what I wanted. I know who I burn for now."

Magnus's breath hitched and he swallowed loudly before he spoke again. "You…you and Jace…you…" Alec nodded. "It wasn't what you expected, was it?" Magnus asked softly, "Being with him?"

Alec didn't know how to answer. Parts of it had played out exactly as they had countless times in his fantasies. The feel of Jace's skin against his, the salty taste of him on Alec's lips and tongue, the perfect friction of their bodies as they pressed together. Those parts were exactly what he would have expected, had he allowed himself to expect anything at all.

But the aftermath had fallen well short of his daydreams. The heat was doused quickly, and no warmth was left behind. Jace's eyes burned with passion when they touched, but it wasn't quite enough. The lust was there, the physical wanting of it, but there was something missing. A spark not fully ignited. Alec remembered the way Jace had looked at Clary after a simple kiss in the Seelie court, and knew what that spark was. Jace would never love him, not like that.

"Some of it was," he said defensively, too proud to bare that particular wound to Magnus.

"But not all of it," The warlock said confidently, and took a step towards him.

Alec shook his head, and sucked in a jagged breath as Magnus closed the distance between them.

"It kills me, you know," Magnus hissed. "That I can't push down my feelings for you, even now. Even when I know you touched him, that you kissed him. It burns me that his body was where mine should be, even more so because he holds a part of you that I can never touch. It takes every bit of willpower in me not to grab you and make you mine again. You can't _imagine_ how fiercely I want to take you right now, Alec. To cover you completely with myself, to touch you and kiss you and drown you in the pleasure of it until there is no room for anything but me."

Magnus raised his hand and softly grasped Alec's chin, pulling it up until he had nowhere to look but into his former lover's face. What he saw there turned his bones liquid. The heat that had been in Jace's eyes was nothing compared to this, one dim witchlight compared to the blinding heat of a supernova. And what was behind the lust—the other emotions laid out so bare in the warlock's eyes—turned the knife in Alec's guts. The cocktail of love and lust that Alec had grown so accustomed to seeing in Magnus's face had been joined by fear, hesitation, ache, and loss. He had hurt Magnus, stripped away part of the confidence and sureness that was the infrastructure of his very being.

In that moment, Alec knew he would do anything—give everything—to erase the sorrow from Magnus's eyes.

Time lost all tangibility. It could have been only seconds or whole days might have passed while Alec stood locked in Magnus's gaze. He'd heard of undressing someone with your eyes, and that was sort of what this felt like. But it was not Alec's body that Magnus was stripping away bit by bit, leaving the exposed parts of him raw and sensitive, it was his very self, the part of him that he thought of as his soul.

Magnus moved his face closer to Alec's, inch by inch, careful not to break the spell of their eye contact. Alec closed his eyes, and held his breath, waiting for the sweet intoxication he knew he would feel when their lips touched.

It didn't come.

"Open your eyes," Magnus's voice was hoarse, his desire and hesitation coloring the cadence of his words. Reluctantly, Alec opened his eyes and was taken aback by the change in the warlock's face.

"What…what's wrong?" he hedged.

"You kissed Jace today," It wasn't a question, but Alec nodded and averted his gaze to the wall.

"Look at me." Magnus's tone was husky and demanding. Alec was drawn to the power in it, and obeyed without thinking.

"I've contented myself with having the parts of you that you would give to me, Alec. I hoped that someday you would let go of your old fantasy and embrace the reality in front of you, but so often I anguished that you never would. It was bearable though, because I knew that you didn't really want him more than me, you wanted the illusion of him. But now that Jace…now that he is no longer just a fantasy to you, I can't be content with being your second choice. You've known the reality of his touch," Magnus's eyes darkened. "I can't keep playing this game with you. I have to know."

"Know what?" he asked, a little bit dizzy from the warlock's words.

"I have to know that when you're here with me, that you're really with me," He drew his bottom lip between his teeth, and looked terrified of his own words. "With me, kissing me, touching me, holding me. That you aren't with him in your head." Magnus lifted Alec's right hand from his side, pushed their palms together, and interlocked their fingers. The simple touch knocked the breath out of Alec as if the warlock was caressing him in a far more intimate place. "When he touched you, was it anything like this?"

Alec shook his head, because it was the truth.

"Then tell me," Magnus whispered, barely audible over the sound of Alec's own blood rushing behind his ears. "Where are you? Right now, where are you?"

"I'm with you," Alec breathed, and closed the distance between them.

When their lips touched, Alec thought the sensation was like simultaneously being surrounded in warm water and soaring through the air without the luxury of wings. He felt grounded and liberated all at the same time. It was amazing. Magnus had been right, Jace had been right. His feelings for Jace were nothing but a glamour he had constructed to hide, to shield himself. He'd been fettered for too long by his own misconceptions. But now that the illusion was stripped away, he was weightless, floating. He wrapped his arms around the only tether he would ever need, and sighed his name. "Magnus."

Magnus tilted his head back and moaned softly. "Are you sure, Alec? Because I don't think I could stand it if I let myself hope, and you changed your mind. Is this really what you want?"

Alec grabbed Magnus's other hand, drawing it slowly up to his mouth. He placed one sensuous kiss between the knuckles of his pointer and middle fingers, while holding his gaze with grinning eyes.

"I know _exactly_ what I want, Magnus." Alec flipped the hand over and languished a kiss over the frenzied pulse point of his wrist. "I want you."

Magnus groaned and ran his tongue across his lower lip. "God, Alec. Don't tease me like that." The fear and hesitation was gone from his face, and its absence was absolution for the Shadowhunter.

Alec grinned cattily at him. "Oh, I'm going to tease you, Magnus. I am going to tease you until you beg me to stop. You can count on that." He looked around the room of the bungalow where Magnus was staying. "Tell me," he said coyly. "Does this shack have a bedroom?"

Magnus laughed at the obvious joke, since the entirety of the cabin was the bedroom. Magnus had, in typical Magnus style, conjured up absurdly lavish furnishings that looked wildly out place. Alec barely even registered them. His eyes were too busy watching the way the warlock's body moved when he walked, enchanted by the flex and release of long muscles under the uncharacteristically monochromatic clothing he wore.

"You look so different," Alec observed aloud. "Almost like a Shadowhunter."

"That would be the point, darling. I'm not exactly inconspicuous, but at least I blend a little better." He cocked an eyebrow at the Nephilim. "What, don't you like it?"

"I'm not sure," he answered honestly. "I mean, you look…_wow_. But you sort of don't look like _you_."

Magnus shrugged. "Is that a bad thing?"

Alec nodded and sat down on one corner of the four poster bed. "I like how you look, Magnus." He sucked in a breath, as if he could draw bravery in with the oxygen. "But that outfit isn't working for me. It has to go."

"I don't know. I sort of like the whole evil angel ensemble," the warlock grinned. "If you want me to change, you're going to have to pry the fabric off my body."

"That," Alec said, pulling his knees underneath him, "is the best idea I've heard all day."


	4. Touch

_A/N: In which we have the Alec/Magnus Lime that started in the previous chapter. Mostly PWP, but hopefully entertaining PWP. ;) I still don't own them, though after writing this, I wish I could bring Magnus home with me._

**Chapter 4**

**Touch**

The bed in the bungalow was quite possibly the softest thing Alec had ever felt. Sprawled on his back, he sunk a good four inches down into the fluff of the purple bedspread. When Magnus's body stretched on top of his, the added weight caused Alec to sink even lower. He was in danger of drowning in lavender colored down, but as Magnus's kisses on his throat sent a wave of heat through his body, Alec thought that maybe that wouldn't be such a bad way to go.

Alec reached both hands down to cup Magnus's ass through the Shadowhunter gear he wore, and pulled their bodies closer together. When the warlock hissed and bucked his hips against him, Alec's fists clenched hard around the muscled flesh, and he smiled to himself, knowing that there would be little matching bruises there tomorrow to evidence their encounter. He clenched his fists again—drawing a little whimper from Magnus—before he slid both hands up and under his solid black shirt.

Magnus pulled his lips back from Alec's throat and tilted his chin so that they were eye to eye. "I thought you didn't like my outfit?" he teased. "I thought you were going to peel it from my body." Alec laughed and pushed Magnus up off of him as he sat up.

"Are you in a hurry?" Alec chuckled. "Impatient for something, maybe?"

Magnus sighed theatrically. "I admit, the centuries have done nothing to instill a sense of patience in me." A dark wave of lust washed over the humor glinting in his eyes. "And besides, I've been waiting for this for a long time."

Alec moved his body on top of Magnus's and slid his hands back down to the inviting curve of his backside. Magnus flinched as Alec gave another squeeze to the skin there.

"Why, exactly are you pulverizing my ass? Not that I mind," he shivered, "I was just wondering if there was a _reason_ you were kneading me like dough."

Alec smirked. "Just marking my property, I guess."

"Your property?" Pleased amusement pulled up the corners of the warlock's lips. "I wasn't aware that my body belonged to anyone other than myself."

"Not just your body, Magnus. You. _You_ belong to me."

Warmth and vulnerability flashed across Magnus's face, followed by a look of glib satisfaction. "Alright. But there is still one little problem with your logic, Shadowhunter."

"What's that?" Alec asked before leaning his body down to begin slowly tracing patterns on Magnus's neck with his tongue.

"You marked my _ass_. Anyone in the position to see that has already committed a grievous act of trespassing across your property line."

Alec smiled against the warm skin of Magnus's neck. "You're right," he whispered, and bit down on the tender flesh.

Magnus jerked his head back further into the pillow and groaned. The vibration of the sound traveled up Alec's lips and down his spine. He had intended to take his time, to savor every second of this encounter, but now that Magnus had brought it back up, Alec couldn't wait any longer. There were definitely too many layers of clothing between them, too much fabric buffering the perfect lines of Magnus's body from his eyes and his hands. That had to be remedied. Immediately.

Alec sat up, grabbing Magnus's shoulders to pull him up as well. He reached down to the hem of his own shirt, and lifted it smoothly over his head. Magnus smirked again.

"I thought _my_ outfit was the one that offended you, not yours."

"It is," Alec sighed, and began sliding his hands under Magnus's shirt. "But I want to feel my skin against yours, and I knew the instant I saw you exposed I wouldn't be able to keep my hands off you. I wouldn't want to waste the time it would take to get my own shirt off, so I had to go first." He pulled the shirt over the warlock's head, reveling in how much easier it was to do while his hair fell soft and silky against his face, instead of held up in spikes by hard gel.

When both shirts lay together on the floor, Alec put one hand to Magnus's chest and pushed him back hard against the pillow. Magnus slid his arm around the boy's back and tried to pull him down, but Alec shook his head and showed off a little of his Shadowhunter training and strength to remain sitting. His knees, one on either side of Magnus's hips, were sinking down into the soft fluff of the mattress, making the friction and pressure of where their bodies touched more potent than Alec could ever remember it being. He arched his back slowly, rocking his hips only once to increase that friction and watching Magnus's face for a reaction. The warlock's eyes shot open wide and a strangled gasp escaped from his throat. Alec held his gaze and gave another little rock, never dropping his gaze.

Magnus reached a hand up to caress the skin just above Alec's stomach. It was the only part of him he could easily reach. "God, Alec," he stuttered, as Alec had gone back to the gentle rocking motion that was driving him too quickly to the brink of oblivion. "Come down here."

Alec didn't respond. Instead, he grasped both of Magnus's hands and pushed them down beside his head, restraining him while hovering his own body a foot over the warlock's.

"You're evil," Magnus whispered, but Alec just smirked at him.

"I told you I would tease you until you begged me to stop," he reminded him.

"High Warlock's don't beg."

"Is that a _challenge_?" Alec asked and leaned down to place one soft kiss along the warlock's clavicle, keeping the painful distance between their bodies.

"Perhaps," Magnus hissed.

"Good," Alec said and trailed a wet line down the warlock's chest. When he drew a dark nipple into his mouth and began to suck on it, Magnus strained against the restraining hands. "Uh uh," Alec chastised against his skin, and pushed the other boy back down.

Magnus pulled his top lip between his teeth. "You know you couldn't _really_ hold me down, Shadowhunter. Not if I didn't want you to."

Alec grinned. "Doesn't matter. You want me to."

Magnus chuckled, allowing that. The warlock pulled his knee up, sliding it softly along the outside of Alec's thigh, and Alec closed his eyes and sighed. The Shadowhunter's arms were shaking with the physical effort of keeping his body those few painful inches away from his lovers, and the rest of his body was shaking with the mental effort of it. It was a tantalizing sort of torture, seeing how far he could push his own restraint without caving in. The waiting would make the payoff better, he knew. And besides, he really did want to hear the warlock beg.

Alec sat back, pulling Magnus's hands up above his bare chest. Keeping eye contact, Alec pulled the very tip of all ten of Magnus's fingers into his mouth one at a time. Such innocent kisses, but Alec knew the effect they would have on the warlock. The promise behind the action was enough to make Magnus close his eyes and slam his head back against the pillow with a low moan.

"What was that?" Alec whispered, sliding the last finger slowly across his bottom lip as he spoke. "Was that begging?" Magnus shook his head.

Alec pulled the trembling hands away from his face and drew them together so he held both slender wrists securely in his left hand, then he leaned forward and pressed them down on the pillow above his lover's head. With his free hand he ran a phantom line of fingertips from the wrist of Magnus's right hand down to the inside of his elbow, over the slightly ridged muscle of his bicep.

As his fingers slid down the warlock's abdomen, he lowered his body down until he pressed firmly against Magnus's side. His hand slowed its descent as it passed over the sloping indent of the navel, and stilled completely right above the waistline of his tight black pants. Magnus's dark eyes opened to lock with Alec's, full of barely contained heat. Alec slid his hand just beneath the dark fabric, brushing over the soft skin that was both so close and so far away from where he wanted them.

"Still not begging?" Alec teased. Magnus shook his head again, giving a low hiss when Alec's fingers moved another inch down. "Still?" Alec prompted, and Magnus gave no answer at all. Alec let go of his wrists and slid his hand back up the silky skin of the boy's stomach before grasping his own hands in his lap. He grimaced and shrugged slightly. "Fine then, if you don't want me…"

Magnus shot up, grabbing the other boy by the shoulders and pulling him into a fierce kiss. When Alec pulled back for air, he realized distractedly that his lip was bleeding from the force of it.

"Don't you ever say that, Alec. Not even in jest. Not ever, ever again." Alec opened his mouth to answer, but the room around him was suddenly spinning. Magnus had twisted around, rolling their bodies over so that Alec was trapped beneath him. His skin was warm, and smelled of incense and magic and lust. Alec slid his arms around him and pulled him down closer.

The feel of skin on skin was a heady release, and Alec moaned against the curtain of Magnus's silky black hair that had fallen onto his face. Magnus pulled back to watch Alec's eyes as he bucked his hips against the boy once, twice, three times. Alec bit his own lower lip hard enough to draw more blood and arched his head back against the pillow, opening up his chest and neck to his lover.

"You want me to kiss you here?" Magnus whispered, and ran the back of his hand tantalizingly up Alec's bared neck.

Alec whimpered and nodded almost imperceptibly. Magnus leaned down and pressed his lips softly to the hollow beneath Alec's throat, giving it only the faintest and most chaste of kisses. Alec strained his neck back further, pleading with his movements for more intensity. Magnus parted his lips and darted his tongue out to taste the salty skin of the Shadowhunter boy, then slid his mouth upward to nip at his earlobe.

Alec shuddered involuntarily when he felt the warlock's breath hot on his ear. His stomach clenched in reaction to the tone of Magnus's voice, and to the content of his request.

"Tell me, Alec. I want you to _tell_ me." He slid one hand up to cup the Shadowhunter's face, but kept his own face turned sideways, breathing his demand into the boys ear. "Tell me where to touch you—tell me where you want my hands…my mouth…my body. I want to know you _want_ this. I want to please you. Tell me."

"I, uh…" Alec felt suddenly self-conscious. He knew what his body wanted, knew exactly the sensations and pleasures and friction that would turn his blood to fire. But there were other things he wanted, too. Experiences that his body had no sensory memory of, things that he'd never done before, but knew instinctively that he desired. Trying to translate any of this—any of the longing and want and skin-hunger—trying to give it verbal form, to simplify it to spoken language, he couldn't do it. He didn't even know how to begin. "Please?" he choked, feeling both uncertain and immensely vulnerable.

"Please?" Magnus's mouth was still pressed against the side of his face, and the involuntary spasm that rocked his spine from the feel of hot breath against his skin did nothing to help clear Alec's head. He nodded.

Magnus pulled back to search the younger boy's face. "What happened to my articulate Shadowhunter? The one who spouts dissertations about Downworld history and Clave law?" He slid his finger along Alec's exposed side as he said this, and Alec was barely able to manage a purposefully exaggerated shrug.

"Are you shy now, Alec? After everything that's happened between us, are you bashful?"

Alec sucked on his lower lip, tasting the hot tang of his own blood and shivered.

"Maybe," he whispered.

Magnus grinned at him and raised one eyebrow. "But how will I know what you want if you wont tell me?"

"You could guess," Alec suggested softly, trying to regain control of his breathing.

Magnus smirked. He nipped at the Shadowhunters ear and bucked his hips softly against him, causing both boys to groan. "Trial and error does have a certain charm," he moved against Alec's body again, drawing another moan, "but I think I want to hear you say it."

Alec arched his back, struggling to heighten the sensation of skin on skin, but Magnus had stopped moving, and was staring down at him solemnly. The absence of pressure was like a physical loss to Alec, once that he could barely tolerate. Instinctively, he raked his hands roughly up the goosebump covered flesh of Magnus's back until they collided at the nape of his neck. He pulled him down hard, desperately, but the warlock didn't budge. He continued to stare on silently into Alec's eyes, nearly drowning the Shadowhunter in the pools of molten chocolate. Finally, Alec gave up. "Magnus," he hissed sliding one hand up to knot in the silky strands of black hair.

At the sound of his name, the Warlock's eyes widened, but he didn't look away.

"Please, Magnus," Alec panted. "Kiss me."

The words were no sooner past the Shadowhunters lips than the warlock swallowed them up with his own. It was not a fevered kiss, not excessively hard or needy. In the past their kisses had usually been both, but that had been when Magnus was fighting against Alec's love of Jace. Now that his worst fear had played out, and in a way that led Alec back to his life, Magnus finally felt that he could slow down and savor the experiences. Before this night he'd always known that it would only be a matter of moments, and never too many of them, before Alec panicked and ran. But something about the way the blue eyed boy looked at him, something about the set of his jaw and the quiver of his lip made Magnus certain that there would be no more running. Their relationship had changed completely in the past few hours, and Magnus felt certain that it was on the precipice of another change entirely, one that he desperately wanted. But he wouldn't rush it, wouldn't rush Alec. He cared too much about him for that.

The feel of the Shadowhunter beneath him was incredible, the softness of his skin contrasting with the hardness of his musculature. Of all the lovers Magnus had ever had, none had been so honestly responsive to his touches and kisses as Alec. Magnus pulled softly on Alec's lower lip between his own, and Alec moaned and tightened his hands in the warlock's hair. When Magnus slid his tongue out, seeking entrance into the other boy's mouth, Alec obliged by parting his lips and moaning softly. He deepened the kiss, feeling his own heart rate and breathing increase in response to the rush of Alec's body and mouth moving with his. Even after their time apart, they still touched and kissed in the perfect rhythm that no choreography could ever hope to emulate, the natural syncopation of chemistry.

Magnus gasped and broke the kiss, determined not to give in until he'd gotten what he wanted from Alec. For his own peace of mind, he needed to hear Alec give voice to his wants. He slid his face along the boy's jaw line, until his lips pressed up against his ear and whispered as softly as he could manage.

"Say it Alec. Tell me what to do. Tell me what you want." Magnus slid one hand up to brush the damp bangs that had fallen on the boy's damp forehead, then he ran his fingers softly, teasingly down the boy's cheek and across that particularly sensitive part of the neck that he knew Alec was particularly susceptible to. A spasm racked the boy's body, and Magnus smiled and nuzzled his neck. "Tell me where you want to be touched."

Alec raised his arm and grabbed the warlock's hand, guiding it down his own body. He'd reached as far as his bare stomach when Magnus resisted and pulled his hand back slightly. When he spoke, his words were broken with the strain of keeping his breathing even. "In a hurry there, love?"

Alec bit his lip and nodded, closing his eyes and pulling on his lover's hand again.

Magnus resisted again, watching the desperate expression on the other boy's face until he opened his sapphire blue eyes. "Say it, Alec. I need to hear it."

Alec heaved a choked breath and stared into the Warlock's eyes. "Everywhere," he pleaded and gave the hand in his another tug. "Magnus, please. Everywhere."

Magnus hissed and yanked his hand away from the Shadowhunter's. Alec startled and stared up at him with a panicked expression, but the swirling colors of lust and victory were flashing in his lover's eyes, which calmed his alarm, if not his pulse. Magnus placed his palm flat against Alec's stomach. The hand was warm, much warmer than his own skin, and pulsing faintly with what felt like a small electrical current. As Magnus began to slowly move his fingers, the warmth and the sensation of electricity both magnified to the point that they were overwhelming, but not at all unpleasant. Alec strained to lift his eyelids and look down at where Magnus was touching him. There was a faint glow around the warlock's hand, and when he looked up in wonder at his face, there was the unmistakable ferocity of power shining through his eyes.

"Magic?" Alec managed to breathe.

Magnus nodded solemnly. "Heightens the sensation."

"Oh, God," Alec hissed and threw his head back, his entire body quaking with anticipation.

When the intensity of the touch and the magic was more than Alec thought he could bear, he felt Magnus's hand begin to move away from the place he needed it to be. As the hand slid up towards his chest, Alec whimpered unrepentantly. He was about to protest when Magnus bypassed the sensitive areas of his chest and went to his neck. Magnus held his fingers above the pulsing vein there for only a few seconds, just long enough for the heat there to begin to drive Alec mad, then they were moving away towards his face.

As his fingers went to trace the supple lines of Alec's lips, Magnus put his own lips on the magic warmed spot of his lover's neck that his hand had just vacated. He felt Alec's entire body quiver with the sensation as his mouth made a bonfire out of the tiny flame that his hand had stoked. He whispered an incantation into the skin as he kissed it, and then moved away to follow his fingers to the boy's lips. He covered Alec's lips with his own, and fought against the grin as Alec shouted into his mouth in surprised pleasure. Magnus pulled back slightly to stare into his eyes.

Alec touched the spot on his neck where Magnus had touched and then kissed, shuddering when his finger brushed it. "I can still feel…"

Magnus nodded. "You said everywhere," he said, his voice low. "I can make it so you feel everywhere I touch you, everywhere I kiss you, all at the same time. It will feel like my hands and my mouth are covering every inch of your skin…simultaneously."

"Oh, God," Alec repeated, and pulled the Warlock back down to him.

As Magnus's lips covered his again, Alec kissed him back with as much fervent passion as he could muster. The sensation of heat on his neck was dizzying. It felt like Magnus was massaging the skin there with his mouth, nipping softly at it with his teeth, while kissing his lips at the same time. He jerked as he felt the hot electric touch of fingertips slide down to his clavicle.

Magnus whispered something he couldn't understand and then left to follow the trail his fingers had just blazed. Just as it had on his neck, the sensation of touch lingered on his lips. It was hard not respond to the phantom kisses even though he knew there was nothing there to kiss back, nothing but the magic of his lover. Magnus repeated the glorious torture on his clavicle, and then on the other side of his neck before moving his hand down to rake it across the hardened patch of his nipple. Alec jerked hard, drowning in the myriad of sensations. Magnus's pinched it hard, making Alec buck up against him again, before he pulled his hand away and replaced it with his mouth. The heat and the magic and the sheer rightness of it boiled in Alec's veins and he shouted aloud, completely unselfconscious. Already he was almost lost to the pleasure.

Magnus used his teeth to bite and pull on the taught flesh and Alec jerked, lifting his entire body off the bed. Magnus pulled back to gauge his reaction. "Too much?" he asked hoarsely.

Alec shook his head quickly, but didn't open his eyes. "More," he demanded firmly. Magnus grinned and went back to his manipulations with his mouth. He closed his hand on the other nipple, matching the movements of his tongue, teeth, and fingers in synchronized teasing. He sighed the incantation quickly again, then slid his tongue across the boy's quaking chest to give equal attention to the other nipple.

Alec was quivering and twitching in earnest now, and Magnus knew he was close to the edge already. How often had he pictured that dark hair spread across his pillow and that exact expression on his streamlined face. Despite Alec's obvious enjoyment, Magnus knew that his own pleasure far surpassed the Shadowhunter's. The ability to bring those sounds and reactions from the other boy was the most gratifying experience he'd ever had. He slid his hand down to the top of the black pants and carefully undid the top two buttons. Alec writhed harder beneath him.

Magnus pulled the pants open just wide enough to maneuver them two or three inches down the boy's hips. He slid both hands out to grab the skin around his hipbones, loving the way Alec's muscles felt in his hands. He pulled the magic from his center, spreading it to both hands so that Alec would feel double the intensity of it. He slid his mouth down and used his tongue to trace the curves and hollows of flesh along the hipbone. Alec was struggling hard, so Magnus used his strength to grip the boys hips harder and kept him pinned to the bed. Unable to move, Alec's cries and whimpers grew louder, more desperate. Magnus wouldn't be able to delay much longer, but damn did he want to draw this out all night. He continued kissing and sucking on the soft flesh but released one of Alec's hips to slide his hand back down to the buttons. The fabric there stretched where Alec was straining against it in his excitement.

Magnus's own breath hitched as he ran his hand over the cloth that separated them. Panting, he undid the last three buttons and quickly moved his hand back up to grasp Alec's hips, which had begun thrashing again. He grabbed hold of the belt loops, then pulled the pants down hard, amplifying the motion with his magic until they slid of their own volition the rest of the way down the muscled legs and to the floor. Alec was left in nothing but gloriously brief black briefs. Magnus groaned at the sight of Alec's body, and bit down hard on his own lip trying to bring his thoughts back into order out of the dizzying fog of unadulterated lust.

He kept his grip on Alec's waist, kept him pressed into the bed as firmly as possible. His knees were between the boy's thighs, which were shaking visibly with the effects of Magnus's magic and touch. He kissed the outer thigh of one leg then slid the kiss inward, nipping and sucking on the skin there until he arrived to the soft muscle of his inner thigh. Alec was moaning constantly, one long stream of undecipherable cries, but when Magnus bit down hard on the tender flesh of his inner thigh, Alec screamed.

Magnus pulled back to look at Alec, to make sure that his sounds were born of bliss and not discomfort. The look on the boy's face told him exactly what he needed to know. Dark hair was flinging around the pillow as Alec thrashed his head from side to side, his hands clenched together over his head, gripping each other hard for stability. Every single muscle in his body was thrown into sharp relief as the he undulated on the bed. The sight of him so lost to pleasure, and the knowledge that he had been the one to have caused it was almost enough to undo Magnus. A violent shiver raked his spine and he rocked back on his heel between Alec's thighs.

"Shit, Alec. The way you look right now. I could…I want to…"

But Alec was too far gone to understand the words, if he could even hear them. Magnus wanted him present—fully in the now—for what he had planned. He pressed both of his palms down on the Alec's flat stomach just below his navel, covering two still darkened Marks and the intricate scars of several others. He slid his thumbs down until the brushed against the elastic of the black briefs and held them there, fighting his own desire to press down lower. He spoke a single low word, and Alec stilled completely on the bed. The spell was undone, the phantom touches and kisses gone. The only thing Alec would be able to feel now was where Magnus currently touched him.

Alec's head snapped up to look at him. His eyes were frenzied but aware.

"Are you alright?" Magnus asked, and Alec managed a groan and a slight head nod. "Is this what you want, Alec?" he massaged little circles under the elastic band. "Is this where you want me to touch you?" Alec groaned and nodded again, then threw his head back against the pillow and shut his eyes.

"No," Magnus demanded. "Look at me."

Alec lifted his head back up and his bangs slid down to cover one of his sea blue eyes. They locked gazes for a long moment, and then Magnus took a deep breath, and slid his hand down lower.


End file.
